


All For A Good Cause

by digthewriter, dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Art, Bets & Wagers, Community: hd_cliche, Crossdressing, Inspired by Art, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Alice in Wonderland, Harry surmised. A rather naughty Alice, but he got the gist.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	All For A Good Cause

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Notes:** DGG and DIG hope you enjoy this story! ♥ 
> 
> Written for [HD_CLICHE Fest](http://hd_cliche.livejournal.com) 2014.

“I still don’t know how I got talked into this,” Harry grumbled as he pulled at his stiff collar. He glanced down at the outlandish outfit he’d been forced to don and his scowl deepened. “Who am I supposed to be? Seriously, who am I and why do I have such awful taste in clothes?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and straightened out his collar for him. “For the last time, you’re The Count of Monte Cristo,” she said. “And you look fine. Very historically accurate.” She looked rather pleased with the notion. Of course she did. She had selected the costume in the first place. Personally, Harry suspected she was getting back at him for something. That was the only reason that could justify why he was melting through six layers of fabric _and_ a cloak while she breezed around in a toga.

“Oh, be a sport,” Hermione scolded. “It’s not like the Ministry hosts a Charity Fundraiser for house-elves everyday. This is supposed to be fun. _And_ it’s for a good cause.”

Oh, perfect. She was playing the charity card. Harry subsided with a snort and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing house-elf. The little creature beamed and offered a clumsy curtsey, her frilly pink apron bobbing with the motion. Harry’s mood softened somewhat. He supposed this ordeal would be worth it if they could hand out a few more aprons, socks and hats by the end of it. House-elves were still rather reticent about the whole ‘work for pay’ concept, but Hermione was nothing if not persistent. After years of heckling, the Ministry had finally started taking her seriously and this event was proof of that. Harry was rather heartened to note how many purebloods were attending.

Pansy Parkinson looked rather resplendent in her Cecilia Gallerani outfit, complete with a daring slit down the length of her form fitting dress. Daphne Greengrass had gone with a similar approach with her Greek hetaerae costume. Her sister Astoria looked modest in comparison — having chosen to emulate her House Founder Rowena Ravenclaw right down to the conservative robes and a sparkling diadem. But what really drew Harry’s attention was the fourth of the group.

A slender, willowy girl with platinum blond hair falling over one shoulder. Her back was turned so he couldn’t really see her face— save for a glimpse of a pale cheek and sweeping long lashes— but her costume caught his eye. The sky-blue frock with the pretty white pinafore was clearly meant for someone shorter than her; Harry suspected that innocent outfit, complete with ruffles and ribbons wasn’t really supposed to look so...scandalous. Nonetheless, it gave way to a stunning pair of legs, covered in knee high white socks. Black ballet flats completed the ensemble.

Alice in Wonderland, Harry surmised. A rather naughty Alice, but he got the gist.

With a grin, he nudged Hermione. “How’s that for historically accurate?” he asked, gesturing discreetly at the girl.

Hermione turned to look and promptly rolled her eyes. “Why am I even surprised?” she said, looking decidedly unimpressed. “Of _course_ he would turn a perfectly innocent children’s character into something deviant.”

Harry’s smile faded to a frown of confusion as he processed her statement. “I’m sorry, ‘he’?”

Hermione blinked in surprise and gestured at the group again. “You...do know that’s Malfoy, right?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he turned around so quickly, he nearly got whiplash. “What the hell?” he blurted. But he definitely saw it. And now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t unsee it. The ‘girl’ turned slightly, and Harry swallowed audibly as those sharp cheekbones, pale skin and grey eyes all came together. There was no question about it. That was _definitely_ Malfoy’s sharp face framed by those golden curls.

_Good Godric._

“Why?” Harry managed. He couldn’t believe it. Malfoy? Aloof, snappish, holier than thou Malfoy was dressed as a girl? Not that he wasn’t pulling it off but...really?

“I’m not sure,” Hermione mused thoughtfully. Then her lips curled in a smile and she nudged Harry. “Why don’t you go ask him?”

“I can’t talk to him while he’s in a dress!” Harry sputtered indignantly. How could she even suggest such a thing? What was he supposed to say to Malfoy in a dress? What did _anyone_ say to Malfoy in a dress? _I like your ribbons? That’s a good colour on you? What are you wearing under that and how might one go about getting a look…_

“No!” Harry blurted out. “No, no, not interested. No.”

“Lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks another,” Hermione recited smugly. “That’s a line from _The Count of Monte Cristo_ , by the way.”

“Very amusing,” Harry grumbled. Still, he had to admit — if only to himself— that he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Just the idea that that was Malfoy’s slim, angular body under all those frills and ruffles...damn but that was intriguing. Titillating.

“Maybe I’ll go say hello after all,” he mumbled.

Hermione nodded, looking simultaneously solemn and amused. _“Courage, mon brave,”_ she teased, and Harry was seriously going to get her back for this someday. For now however, he was going to talk to the pretty boy in the blue dress.

Parkinson was the first to notice his approach. She nudged one of the Greengrass sisters and gestured to him. The girls turned, glancing from him to Malfoy before bursting into giggles. Malfoy’s brow arched in a frown and he turned around. His eyes met Harry’s and he froze in his tracks.

“Oh, perfect,” he muttered.

“We’ll just get out of your way then, ‘Alice’ dear _,_ ” Parkinson snickered, leading the giggling sisters away. Malfoy scowled at their retreating backs before turning on Harry.

“Don’t start,” he growled. “I mean it, Potter.”

The contrast of Malfoy’s deep, masculine voice and his feminine get up was so startling, Harry let out a bark of laughter. That was a decidedly stupid thing to do.

“Prat,” Malfoy snapped, pushing past him roughly as he made to storm off.

Fortunately, Harry regained his bearings before he was out of reach. He snagged Malfoy’s arm and pulled him back easily, trapping him against a tree trunk. Malfoy glared at him with stormy, grey eyes, just _daring_ him to say something. Naturally, Harry did.

“Nice ruffles,” he teased. “Blue is definitely your colour.”

“Very funny,” Malfoy groused. “I’m so glad my predicament amuses you.”

‘Amused’ wasn’t quite the word Harry had in mind, but he elected not to say so. “How did this happen, exactly?” he asked instead.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I’ll be thinking twice before making bets with Pansy again.” His eyes flicked to Harry’s costume. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“The Count of something something,” Harry sighed. “If it’s any consolation, you’re not the only one who hates their costume. I’m bloody miserable.”

Malfoy brightened a bit at that. “You’re miserable? That does make me feel better, actually.”

“I’m so glad my predicament amuses you,” Harry replied, taking the opportunity to belt Malfoy’s words back at him. There was little animosity in it, though. Malfoy looked more amused than offended, now that he knew Harry was on his side. And Harry definitely shared the sentiment.

“That does look uncomfortable,” Malfoy mused thoughtfully, trailing a pale hand down Harry’s front. His long, slim fingers brushed the stiff collar, tracing down the length of the dark sleeve and resting on one of the leather gloves. Malfoy’s eyes fluttered and when he looked up at Harry, they were dark. “All that leather and those dark colours. You must be very...hot.”

“Hot and bothered,” Harry agreed raspily. “And you must be…” He trailed off as he took in Malfoy’s outfit again. The white apron and those socks and Malfoy’s _legs_ and the ruffled trim brushing his thighs…

“Uncomfortable,” he managed at last.

Malfoy gauged his reaction with a feline smile, shifting closer to him. “I’ll make you a deal, Potter,” he purred, his lips brushing against Harry’s ear and making him shiver. “I’ll help you take your atrocious costume off if you return the favour.”

Oh, _yes_.

“I can work with that,” Harry replied, nodding enthusiastically. “I can work with that right now.”

“Brilliant, because these shoes are killing me,” Malfoy drawled. “Shall we retire to the Manor then?”

He turned to leave, but Harry snagged his arm again. “Just one question,” he said, as Malfoy raised an enquiring eyebrow. “What are you wearing under...that?”

Malfoy grinned salaciously, looking more like the Cheshire Cat than sweet, little Alice. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Harry didn’t even bother saying goodbye to Hermione. All for a good cause, yes? She would understand. As he herded Malfoy over to the nearest Floo, he figured he would make it up to her anyway. In fact, if things went to plan, Harry would soon have a _lot_ of spare clothing to contribute to the house-elf initiative. The cloak, the trims and ruffles, the ballet flats and the pinafore...ah yes, some lucky house-elf was going to have a whole new wardrobe by the time this was over.

They were keeping the socks, though. Oh, they were _definitely_ keeping the socks.

* * *


End file.
